


Writing doodles!

by littlemissnicole



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: AUs, Alternate Universe - College/University, Carwash siblings!, Florist Tucker, I'm practicing, M/M, SO FAR I SWEAR, Tattoo Artist Wash, more to come I promise!!!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-03-02 08:57:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 4,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2806859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemissnicole/pseuds/littlemissnicole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Writing doodles that I'm working on to try and work on characterization and writing in general!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 1) I found you passed out in front of my door so I just dragged you into  
> my home and put you on the couch please don’t scream.

Wash doesn't mean to let in a stranger. He doesn't! But. 

The guy had passed out outside his dorm room door, and it just seemed really, really rude to let him ruin his back and take up the entire hallway with his bulk when Wash has a perfectly good couch!

Alright so it's finals week so it's really not so weird for the guy to be randomly passed out, and Wash's sure he's seen the guy around the dorm before. His name is... Matt? Mason? Something that starts with an M. 

And he doesn't look half bad, probably fell asleep from finals crash and not drunkenness, which is a bonus, because that means Wash doesn't have to worry about cleaning up the guys vomit when he wakes up.

Probably. 

Oop, speaking of. The guy stirs, rubbing a hand across his face and blinking awake. It takes him a few seconds, but he sits up quick enough, eyes bouncing around the apartment before they settle on Wash. They're brown and wide awake. 

Wash tries to look as un-serial killery as possible, clad in his oversized Grifball hoodie and Cryaotic pj pants. "Hey hi! Nice to see you've joined the land of the living! Not that you were dead or anything, but you kinda passed out in the middle of the hallway like right outside my door and I thought I would be a good Samaritan and give you a couch to sleep on. I tried to wake you up, but you were really out of it, so I got my neighbor to help me move you in here and you're a really heavy sleeper so-" Wash blushes. "Sorry, I'm rambling. Name's Wash."

The guy holds out his hand. "Maine. Thanks." 

"No problem." 

The guy rises, towering over Wash, and heads for the door. "Coffee?" Maine offers as Wash follows. "My treat, as a thank you." 

"Sure!" Wash says, then blushes. "Tomorrow, at 11? I'll meet you at Blood Gulch Cafe." 

Maine nods, smiling. "See you there." 

"Bye, Maine."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My apartment key apparently also works on your apartment door? (Also I  
> accidentally let your cat out.)

Carolina fumbles with her keys, swearing as she feels her groceries start to slip. She finally gets the key in the lock, twisting it open to get in so she can start something to eat. 

Something brushes past her ankles, but she barely notices, flicking on the lights and setting the groceries on the counter. 

Someone clears their throat behind her, and she startles,turning and reaching for her keys. The kid that lives a few doors down, Wash, stares at her confusedly. "What're you doing in my apartment?" 

"Your apartment? What're you doing in MY apartment?" Carolina counters, staring him down. Until she notices the bowls in sink and laundry strewn about. "This isn't my apartment." She realizes, startled. 

Wash nods. "Yeah." 

"Oh my god, I'm really sorry! I was brain dead and I guess my key unlocks your apartment door. Let me just grab my groceries and I'll be on my way." 

Wash shrugs a little, laughing. "Here, let me help." he offers, grabbing one of the bags off the counter. 

Carolina flashes him a smile, leading the way out of his apartment and towards her own. 

It's only a few minute trip, and right as they reach Carolina's door, she's taking the bag from Wash and smiles. 

"Oh, and I let your cat out," She admits with a giggle. "Bye, Wash." 

She can hear him swearing from across her apartment.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be about Family and growing up??? I got CarWash siblings to cover family, and it started with cute memories of childhood and then it devolved into 'Lina and Wash being nerds.

Wash flops onto the couch, slumping into Carolina's lap and nuzzling like a cat. She laughs, threading her fingers into his hair. "What'd you put in the player, anyways?" 'Lina asks, scratching Wash's scalp lightly. 

Wash purrs, leaning into her touch. "At Worlds End." 

"Yay, I love this movie." The red head says, slouching further into the couch cushions. 

"I know, _Captain _," Wash teases. "What was your official title again? Captain Red, the most fearsome she pirate on the seven seas?"__

Carolina laughs disbelievingly. "Like you were much better! What was your title, Wash? First Mate Davie of the good ship Googly Moogley?" 

"I will have you know that the S.S. Googley Moogley sank years before this," Wash says, primly. "It took countless souls and was never seen again. I was promptly awarded the good ship 'My older sisters lap,' where I will spend the rest of my days lazing about." 

"Oh, you will?" 

"Unless she needs to get up, of course," Wash allows gracefully. "It's only fair." 

'Lina snorts, but quiets immediately when the boy on screen starts singing, staring mournfully down at the coin in his hands. "Yo-ho, all hands. Hoist the colors, high. Heave-ho, thieves and beggars. Never shall we die." 

The rest of the prisoners pick up the tune, and the coin falls. 

"You know," Wash says, "I never understood this part." 

"Dude." His sister sounds disbelieving. She pauses the movie "This song sets the WHOLE MOVIE in motion." 

"Obviously, otherwise they wouldn't've put it in the movie, but how?" 

"Because the good lord Bennet," Carolina sneers, "Is trying to control the seas, so the prisoners sing the song about binding the sea into Calypso so Davey Jones can never see her to try and appeal to the men who did it. The Nine Pirate Kings. But! Jack Sparrow was one of these kings, and where is he at this point?"

"Davey Jones locker, right?" 

"Yup!"

"Oh." Wash says, understanding. "That makes sense." 

'Lina snorts, hitting play. Elizabeth Swan floats eerily down a canal, fireworks going off above her as people stomp across the bridge. 

Wash sighs in her lap, and 'Lina lightly scratches his scalp again. 

She doesn't remember falling asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And if I may can someone help me figure out how the hell to do italics because I have no idea


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tattoo Artist!Wash and Florist!Tucker, ft. Junior the baby

Tucker catches Junior's hand as he reaches for a rose, gently tugging it away from the thorns. "Don't wanna touch that, kiddo," he says teasingly. "Too many pointy bits." 

Junior looks up at him mutinously, chubby face twisted up into a glare. Tucker laughs, and the jingle of the bell makes him plop Junior down into his playpen behind the counter. "Can I help you?" Tucker calls as Junior babbles. 

The blonde guy who's just walked in is covered in tattoos, curling down his arms and twining around his muscles. Tucker puts an extra pep into his smile. 

"How can I help you?" He asks. Blondie startles, and then smiles at him. 

"I need about two dozen rhododendrons," The guy asks, and Tucker nods, picking up Junior and settling him on his hip.

"You mind if I ask why?" Tucker asks, freeing one of his dreads from Junior's grip. 

"I just opened up shop next door," the guy says, jerking his head to the opposite wall. "Tattoo shop with me and a couple friends. Figured flowers might make the place look a little less frightening." 

Tucker makes an interested noise, turning towards a certain bloom of plant. "What color?" He asks, gesturing out at the variety. Rhododendrons aren't all that popular, so they don't stock that many, but they have a few different colors. 

Wash looks, says. "A little of them all?", and Tucker nods, quickly doing the math on how to evenly divide the colors. 

"Do you mind holding him?" Tucker asks, hiking Junior up. "I usually have a baby backpack but he was very adamant to not be in it today." 

The guy shrugs. "Not at all," he says, reaching out to take the toddler. "My name's Wash, by the way." 

"Thanks for your help, Wash." Tucker says gratefully. "Name's Tucker, and this little dude is Junior." Wash nods, bouncing a babbling Junior like he knows what he's doing.

Tucker makes a noise in the back of his throat. Hot and good with kids? So not fair, he probably has a wife and kids of his own. Wash looks up at him and Tucker says, "Back to the counter we go!" Wash laughs. It's a nice sound. 

"You have any kids of your own?" Tucker asks, watching as Junior tries to grab at Wash's tattoos. 

"Nah," Wash says, "My sister does, though. She's another one of the artists at the shop, I get to help babysit." 

"I've been thinking of getting a tattoo," Tucker muses, shifting the flowers in his arms. "Little man's birthdate, definitely, maybe his name." 

"What's stopping you?" Wash asks as they arrive at the front of the store. 

"Didn't like anyone's art style, mostly," Tucker says, setting the flowers on the counter and taking his kid from Wash and plopping him back, once again, in the playpen. 

"We're open late, if you want to come in and look," Wash offers, shyly, and Tucker smiles, tallying up how much the flowers cost. 

"I'd love too," He grins. "That'll be $60 even." 

Wash scans his debit card, while Tucker wraps his flowers in the precut cellophane. 

"I get off at 6." Tucker winks, and Wash flushes bright red, taking his flowers. There's a phone number written on the receipt.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quick, Catch that cat! It stole my wallet!  
> (AKA WHAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE FOR FEMSLASH FEBRUARY BUT I'M AWFUL)

South gets off the elevator, heading for her brother's apartment when she sees something streak down the hallway and towards the stairs. 

A tiny woman skids out of the door the cat came out of, yelling "Quick, catch that cat, it stole my wallet!" 

South laughs but takes off, heading down the stairs until she's cornered the orange ball of fluff against the closed stairwell door. 

It drops the squirtle wallet and rubs against her legs, and she picks it up just as the girl turns the corner. "Aha, you caught him!" She cheers, throwing a fist in the air. 

"Yeah, he didn't exactly fight," South says, as the girl passes her to grab her wallet. 

"Thanks," the girl says, breathlessly. "Name's Connie." She says, sticking out her hand. 

South shifts the cat to her other arm, taking Connie's hand to shake. "South, nice to meet you." 

"You too," Connie says. "Hey, you wouldn't happen to have a brother in 4b, would you?" 

"Yeah," South says, "Why, does he owe you money or something?" 

Connie laughs, "Nah, he's even on his loans, and Theta's a cute kid." 

South smiles at the mention of her nephew. "Yeah, he's adorable. Kid's got dreams of being a singer, someday." 

"Oh?" Connie says, and when they walk out of the stairwell she gestures for South to follow her. 

"Mhm. Kid's got the pipes for it, too. He's loud, but a confident loud. Now if only he didn't dance like his dad does." 

Connie laughs. "Didn't think North was a bad dancer," She says. 

"You've never seen him dance," South snorts. "Yeah, he teaches ballroom on the side sometimes, but put him in a club? Worst dancer. He's got no rhythm." 

"And you do?" Connie says with a smirk, crooking an eyebrow. 

"Oh, I've got loads of rhythm," South says, and by that time they've reached what's apparently Connie's apartment. "Here, I'll show you. Blood Gulch Club, 8 pm tonight?" 

Connie smiles, "Sure, here, hold out your hand." And when South sticks out her hand Connie seizes it and pulls a pen out of her hoodie. Her grip is really strong, for someone at least at South's shoulders. 

"See you tonight," Connie says, and sneaks the cat from South's arm. 

South grins victoriously, throwing her fists up in the air.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The skirt is short on purpose"

York sips at his rum and coke, idly flicking his lighter. His friends had ditched him at one of the clubs in the Vegas quadrant, one last hurrah before they all get transferred out to different stations. 

He's just flicked the lighter shut when he feels it disappear from his hand. Startled, he glances at where it had been. 

There's a very pretty redhead there, holding his lighter with a cheeky grin. "Buy me a drink?" She asks. 

"Sure," He says, swallowing back the shock of just how _pretty _this girl is. Most of the ladies he's seen here haven't been very visible at all, in the club lights, but even under the red-blue pulse of the bar she's there in startling clarity. "Rum and coke fine?"__

__"Sure," She says, amused. "You alone?"_ _

__"Yeah," He sighs. "My friends ditched me for the dance floor a little while ago. You?"_ _

__"Absolutely," She says, and then holds her hand out. "Name's Carolina."_ _

__York takes it and kisses it, Carolina's teeth flashing when she laughs._ _

__Their drinks arrive and the two of them chat amiably for a few minutes before York excuses himself to go to the bathroom. Carolina seems content on her own; she pulls out her phone from somewhere (where the hell had she been keeping that?) as York turns the corner._ _

__He finished quickly, eager to get back to Carolina._ _

__York turns the corner again, ruffling his hair, coming around just in time to hear Carolina sneer, "The skirt's short on purpose," and slams her fist into a guys nose._ _

__"Who-a!" York says, impressed. "Everything okay?"_ _

__"Oh, yeah." Carolina says, blowing her hair out of her face. "Guy just needed a reminder of his manners, is all." She grabs his hand, pulling him towards the exit. "Come on, let's go have fun."_ _


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Please put me down, it's just a sprained ankle."

It's a mission gone right, for once- 'Lina showed up out of the blue to save his skin once before speeding away, but Wash hasn't seen Maine since they parted ways at the drop point. 

He's not worried- Maine's a big boy, he can take care of himself, and if he'd needed help he would've said something over text-comm. 

Wash stumbles on rubble, managing to keep his balance just enough that he doesn't fall completely. The extraction point is within view, now, Carolina standing proud on the lowered ramp. Wash can't see her face, but she's probably grinning smugly behind the gleam of her visor. 

Wash grins himself, glad to see she's okay, and throws up a fist in greeting. She waves back, then points behind and to the left of him. 

Wash looks, seeing Maine's domed helmet peek out from behind a pillar. Wash waves at him, too, before turning back to the extraction point. 

From behind him Wash hears rubble move, and figures something shifted when he stepped over it. Carolina doesn't look worried, after all- can't be something too bad. 

A hand slams down on his shoulder, making him jump and shriek. Wash hears Carolina scream with laughter before his foot catches on something and he goes down. 

Maine peers down at him worriedly. Wash huffs, holding his hand out. "That was fucking _rude _." He says as the bigger man helps him up. Maine huffs.__

__Wash hisses when he tries to put weight on his right foot, and Maine tilts his head. Then, without warning, Maine picks him up bridal style, and Wash squeaks._ _

__"Put me down. It's just a sprained ankle!" Wash exclaims. Maine growls at him._ _

__"I got shot last week! This is nothing!"_ _

__Maine doesn't say anything, just starts heading for the Pelican again. Carolina is bent at the waist with laughter. Wash pouts._ _

__"Having fun, Wash?" Carolina calls when they're close enough._ _

__"Up yours, Boss!" He yells back._ _

__She laughs again, bright and happy._ _


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why exactly do you need chloroform at 2AM?

"Psst, North! North!"

North blinks himself awake, looking up into his sisters face before glancing over at the clock. "It's two in the morning, South, what in the hell could you want?"

South flops onto the bed, trying to land next to him but mostly landing on top of him. He lets out an oomph of protest, blowing her purple fringe back onto her own face. "I need your chloroform."

"Why the fuck, South."

"I need to drug Wash."

"What the _fuck _, South?" North asks, incredulously.__

__"It's for a prank, all right? I need to drug him so me 'n Connie can haul his ass down to commons."_ _

__"What do you need chloroform for? Just punch him out, it won't last as long."_ _

__South snorts. "Not our commons, THE commons. Out in front."_ _

__"The commons where there's a constant flow of touring kids?"_ _

__"Yep," South says. "Where's your chloroform?"_ _

__"Under the kitchen sink," North sighs. "Don't leave it out where Theta can get it."_ _

__"No, North," South starts, sarcastically. "I'm totally going to leave it out where Theta can drug himself to oblivion. _Totally _."___ _

____"'Preciate it, South," North slurs, pulling his blankets back up._ _ _ _

____"Yeah, yeah. Go back to sleep."_ _ _ _

____North hears the door to his bedroom close, and settles deeper into the blankets._ _ _ _

____A thought occurs to him, and he bolts upright, throwing the blankets off and darting out of bed._ _ _ _

____"South!" he whisper-yells._ _ _ _

____"What?"_ _ _ _

____"How'd you know I have chloroform?"_ _ _ _

____"York told me!"_ _ _ _

____That motherfucker._ _ _ _


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canonverse, for once!
> 
> no prompt, just South. (and Connie, for like, two sentences)

South prefers to watch the punching bag swing. Yeah, she’ll run the holo-sims until she aches, but there’s something satisfying in making contact and feeling the ache in her knuckles.

Plus, you can’t tape photos to holograms. Sure, they can take the other persons face, but with the way the Project runs, it also takes their fighting style, too, and that’s not what she needs.

Swap that to satisfaction in _impact _. South bounces back onto her heels, hands automatically reaching out to steady the bag.__

__Her blood rushes in her ears, the only sound in the room besides her own breathing. This gym is about as abandoned as it can get with FILSS watching over everything. Maine used it for weightlifting, before he got Sigma._ _

__North’s face grins out from the crumpled photo, unwaveringly happy._ _

__The picture had been taken the night before they’d deployed, back when she could actually stand him._ _

__She throws a vicious right hook, hearing the paper crumple and hopefully tear under the pressure._ _

__South’s down to civvie workout clothes, fists tied up with the roll of tape only she uses. She hasn’t gone bareknuckle boxing in a long time. Maybe next time they’re planetside._ _

__The picture has a tear in it now, but she could honestly care less, going into a barrage of spins and kicks that are aimed more or less where “North’s” crotch would be._ _

__She snarls at the back of her throat. She wants to rip her heart out and eat it raw, tear down cities and fill the gaping hole he’s left her._ _

__She’s _good _, damn it, so damn good, just not the best stealth operative on the damn team. She’s not a fucking child. South’s always been the one to lead the way between the two of them- first born, first to sign up, first to get shot, and yet he thinks he’s better?___ _

____He’s so fucking cocky._ _ _ _

____South’s cocky too, okay? She’ll admit it. But she can back it up with more than good aim and a fucking AI. (The punching bag almost swings too high and gets too close to her face. She sends it spinning back with a roundhouse kick so hard her leg hurts.)_ _ _ _

____“South?” A voice asks, in the periphery of her mind. She turns, snarling._ _ _ _

____CT is there, armor on but helmet in hand. “Mission debrief is in 30. Figured you'd appreciate the reminder.”_ _ _ _

____South grunts an affirmative as the other woman turns and leaves._ _ _ _

____She pulls off the tape with her teeth as she walks away, not noticing as the ripped photo flutters to the ground behind her._ _ _ _


	10. South/CT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you sit behind me and poke me every time i fall asleep during 9am lectures thank you can i buy you a coffee?

"'Oh, take a 9 am class, sis,'" South mocks, head pillowed in her arms to block the lights from her eyes. "'It'll be so much easier on you since it isn't that early!' Fuck off North, this is literally the worst." 

The class is actually pretty interesting for a required course, but the only slot with spots still available was either 8 AM or 9, and South will take the extra sleep where she can get it. 

The professor begins, and South sort of perks up, taking her head out of her arms enough to see and jot down things in her notebook. 

She doesn't know she's fallen asleep until someone jabs her in the side, making her jump and sit up a little. She flashes the girl next to her a smile, mouthing 'thanks'. The girl nods, her undercut swaying. She looks really good.

The class is about an hour and a half long, and South manages to fall asleep two more times within that time frame, and each time her neighbor pokes her awake with a smile. 

After the class is dismissed, South gathers her things and turns to the girl. "Thanks for waking me up," She says, holding out her hand. "I'm Alana, but my friends call me South." 

"Connie," the girl says, shaking her hand. 

"Listen, I owe you at least three for waking my ass up. Can I pay you back with coffee?" 

Connie glances at her phone, shrugs. "Sure, why not. I got time 'til my next class." 

South grins.


	11. children, all of you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m in art class and I just opened a cupboard to find a tiny person (you) squished inside and you just looked at and said “shh I'm hiding””

South putters around the classroom as normal, letting the tension flow out of her in a long exhale. Sets her bag by her chair, heads for her cubby where she stores her materials, gathers a couple charcoals in pastels she doesn't have on her.

Then she heads back to her seat, plopping down and loosening her chucks enough to take them off. Her back twinges from hunching over yesterday, but it's finals week and she'd much rather take the edge off with artwork and have an aching back _now_ , and then when she can she'll get with Maine and start a brawl, bare-knuckles style.

She gets a good, solid hour in, curving short, cool blues and greens into the longer, more vibrant reds and purples, smudged fingers skipping over certain colors she's just not feeling.

It's an abstract homage to her friends, she guesses. All her works have been inspired by them, in a form. She did a piece earlier in the year based on Carolina- bright seafoam turquoise and splashes of red like blood, shot through with gold and a darker cyan. Wild, but with steadiness to her.

South gets up to stretch, padding around the studio while bending odd directions to get her back to pop. Just when she's about to finish her circuit and sit back down, she sees one of the lower cabinet doors twitch.

Immediately on alert, she blows the purple streak out of her eyes and goes to open it.

A girl with brown eyes and a mohawk is inside. "Shhh!" She hisses as South opens her mouth. "I'm hiding. Campus-wide hide-and-seek."

Look, South's in her 3rd year of college. This isn't the weirdest thing she's seen. The fact it's going on the Monday of finals is a little weird, but people break when and how they can- she's definitely not one to speak, considering she relaxes with more work. So she nods, letting the cabinet fall shut behind her and leaving the girl to her game.

There are a dozen other assignments she could be doing, to be completely honest, but South is more focused on finishing this hodge-podge thing she's started, now.

Maybe about.... an hour? An hour and a half? Later, Wash and York come tumbling into the room, giggling and tripping over another.

She raises an eyebrow, hooking a finger around an earbud wire and tugging. "Yeah?"

"Hey, South, have you seen Connie anywhere?" Wash asks, casting his eyes about like she's going to be draped over a table, french-girl style.

So that was the mysterious Connie. Wash said she'd only started after winter break, and with everyone pushing out their spring semesters, and work, she hadn't had the chance to meet the mysterious "Connie."

She settles on a snort. "How am I supposed to know? Still haven't met her, you know."

Wash pouts. "Well, if you see a short girl with a brown mohawk and linked earrings let us know. Another half hour and we have to call Olly-oxen-free."

"Are you guys playing hide-and-seek without me?" South puts a hand to her heart, mock-offended, mouth open in shock.

"Only 'cause you didn't answer your phone," York says, walking over and sticking his fingers all over her _unsealed charcoals_ that _fuck_.

"Hands off the merch, dickmunch," South snaps, swatting his hand. He pouts but withdraws as requested. "Like I said, I haven't seen her. If I do I'll text you."

Wash throws her a grin over his shoulder, already heading out the window. "You can join us next round! Meet us in the quad, half an hour!"

"Yeah, yeah, fuck off." She says with a grin, flipping them the bird and putting her headphone back in.

South gets absorbed back in her work and is debating on blending Wash's gunmetal with her own purple or if she wanted to do it with her brother's lighter, almost magenta, shade when someone taps her shoulder.

She startles upright, glancing over at whoever it is. It's Connie, hands shoved into her hoodie.

"Half an hour is up, they called Olly-Oxen Free."

"Oh, yeah. You win?" South starts packing up, careful not to smudge.

"Yup, all thanks to you."

'South laughs softly, going to wash the pastels off her hands. "Do I have anything on my face?" She asks, since the art room doesn't have any mirrors, and she already gets enough flack about not being consistently neat, she doesn't need anymore fuel in the cannons.

"Nope! Come on, they're going to start the next game without us if we don't get going."


End file.
